


Bedtime Story

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Great storytellers are often able to amuse elves of all ages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Story

The end of the day had come. Settling back into his favorite chair, Celeborn let his eyelids droop, but not close completely. Across the room, Rumil sat on the couch with his legs tucked beneath him. One hand balanced a pad of paper while the other held a piece of soft coal. Celeborn watched where his youngest son’s eyes darted to – the eldest of his sons standing, facing a large framed map of Doriath. Haldir had a curious look upon his face, as if by staring at the lines that made up the ancient place he could absorb some of the history of it. One hand traveled across the glass of the frame in an attempt to close some sort of impossible gap while the other loosely held a glass of dark liquid. Celeborn wondered if Rumil had asked Haldir to pose in such a manner, or if the opportunity had unknowingly presented itself.

“Ada, Ada, Ada!” Celeborn shifted to look at the doorway where a little light haired she-elfling had run into the room. “Ada, I want you to tell me a story. Please? Can you?”

Celeborn smiled warmly and leaned forward on his chair with open arms. Tallasinde rushed forward, jumping up into her father’s lap. Her oldest brother turned and regarded her presence with a smile of his own, while Rumil made a few final swipes on his paper before flipping the sheet over the top to a clean page. “What kind of story would you like to hear?”

“A good one. And a long one,” the child answered honestly. Rumil snickered and Haldir shook in silent laughter.

Before Celeborn could decide upon a tale, another elfling appeared at the door. Although she was younger, she was much bolder, and placed her hands on her hips in exaggeration. “At’ada! Talli and I are supposed to go to bed and she is hiding.” Vilya pouted when she saw the tiny elfling sitting in her grandfather’s lap. “Talli, it is bedtime, and Nana says you must come now.”

“Ada is going to tell me a story.” Tallasinde clung to Celeborn tightly, and added, “He already said so.”

Vilya stamped her foot. “At’ada, Nana will not be happy.”

“I will explain things to your Nana,” Celeborn said, and motioned for his grandchild to come and sit upon his lap as well. He knew for a fact that Vilya’s Nana used to use the same tactic as Tallasinde did right at bedtime, and that she would understand one more story before the elflings retired for the evening.

She did not need further prompting, for Vilya ran to Celeborn faster than Tallasinde had, dark hair waving behind her. “What story are you going to tell us, At’ada?”

“He is going to tell us a good long one,” whispered Tallasinde.

Celeborn considered the wall for a moment as he tried to think of a tale to tell. “Rumil, do you have a favorite story you think I should tell them?”

“I like the one where the youngest son of the leaders of a great old forest slew a dragon, saving the world, and many fair and beautiful maidens, was rewarded with a large kingdom, and was loved by all.” Rumil said this all rather fast and paused before adding, “I think he had a pony, too.”

Celeborn gave Rumil a puzzled look. “I do not recall that story. Did that really happen?”

“I can dream, can’t I?”

Rolling his eyes, Celeborn looked to Haldir. “What about you? What tale do you suggest?”

“You truly need to ask me that?” Haldir walked to the couch and leaned against the arm, setting his drink upon the table nearby. “The great tale of the fall of a great elf of Gondolin and the balrog he slew.”

“Ew. Not the Glorfindel story again,” complained Vilya, sticking out her tongue.

“You don’t know that I meant Glorfindel,” countered Haldir playfully to his niece. “I might have been talking about Ecthelion.”

“You meant Glorfindel,” said Celeborn and Rumil in unison, and Haldir smirked and shrugged.

“It is an excellent tale.”

Celeborn laughed. “And an exaggerated one. I swear that balrog grows a foot every time the tale is told.”

“Then tell us one you wish to tell,” suggested Haldir. He approached and sat down on the floor in front of Celeborn’s chair.

“Do you mean to listen as well?” Celeborn asked, raising a brow. “From a spot on the floor?”

Haldir nodded. “Unless there is room left on your lap.”

Celeborn shook his head. “I have two knees, and two elflings.”  
“Perhaps I can find Nana for you and see if she would lend her lap for a time,” offered Rumil. Haldir looked over his shoulder at Rumil, who was sketching once again, and waggled his tongue. A moment later, Erestor stepped into the room, took a look around, and began to retreat.

“Hold, Erestor, you do not have to leave.” Erestor turned back around at Celeborn’s words and gave a nod.

“I am sorry, it appeared I was intruding upon something,” Erestor said.

“Nonsense. There is nothing to apologize for.”

Erestor nodded once more and crossed the room to retrieve a book from the shelves and traveled back across the room. He left, but then came back in. “If I may ask, what are you doing?”

“I am going to tell a story once I think of one to tell,” Celeborn told him.

Narrowing his eyes, Erestor looked at Haldir sitting on the floor. “You’re not telling that balrog tale again, are you?”

Celeborn shook his head and Haldir stuck his tongue out at Erestor this time.

Erestor looked upon the volume in his hands, and saying nothing more, walked to the shelf to replace it before coming to sit next to Haldir on the floor. He folded his hands neatly in his lap and looked up expectantly. Celeborn felt Vilya fidget and he leaned his head down so that she could whisper into his ear. “No, no elf is ever too old to listen to a bedtime story.” Something else was whispered to him and he added, “Nor is any peredhel ever too old.”

Vilya relaxed once more, still thinking Erestor was being unusually silly, but she liked the dark elf immensely and often followed him around the house. She was told constantly by her parents not to pester him, but he always smiled and said it was nonsense to think she was a nuisance.

Looking down from her perch, she was pleased to see that Erestor was wearing his ‘snuggly robes’. Sometimes he had ‘scratchy robes’ – wool, her Nana often corrected her, or his ‘slippery robes’ – silk, her Ada said. But these were the ‘snuggly robes’ – velvet, she knew, but ‘snuggly’ sounded better to her. She slid off of Celeborn’s lap and bounded over to Erestor, finding a good spot in his lap to sit and sighing when Erestor loosely wrapped his arms about her. The extra material from his sleeves helped cover her feet and the peredhel was glad for the extra warmth on her toes. “I think your Ada has room for you on his lap now, Uncle Haldir.”

Haldir chuckled and patted Vilya on the head. “I am comfortable here on the floor, but I thank you for thinking of me.” Smiling to Erestor, he nudged the older elf with his shoulder. “Remember when I used to do that?”

“How can I forget? I was interrogated each time,” grinned Erestor.

“Only when I had Orophin with me,” Haldir corrected him.

Someone cleared their throat at the door and all of the elves looked over to see Legolas and Gimli standing in the doorway. “What about Dwarves? Are they ever too old for bedtime stories?” A grinning Legolas posed the question.

Celeborn gave some thought to this. “I have never known a Dwarf to be too old for a bedtime story.”

“Excellent. Come, Gimli!” Legolas tugged on Gimli’s sleeve, but left him at the door as he joined Rumil on the couch, leaving more than enough space for Gimli. Rumil watched with amusement as Gimli finally settled onto the couch. Obviously, the Dwarf hadn’t been too worried about whether he was too old to hear a story or not, but Legolas was fully concentrating on what Celeborn was going to tell them.

Making an attempt to begin again, Celeborn was interrupted by the twins, who rushed into the room with slightly panicked looks on their faces, which changed a little too quickly to relief when they spied the elflings. “Ah, El, here they are!”

“Just where you thought they’d be, El!”

“Now, Nana just said to find them, right?”

“She never specified what to do with them after we located them.” Elrohir paused, giving a look about the room. “Say...you’re not telling a bedtime story, are you, Granpapa?”

Legolas choked on a laugh, and Celeborn regarded the elf on the couch for a moment before looking at the twins. Both of them had questioning expressions, but Celeborn knew they were being faked. “Who else is waiting outside the door?” he asked.

Glorfindel sheepishly poked his head into the room before walking briskly to a chair.

“Oh, come on, let’s just go in.” Valarda pulled a snickering Orophin over to the floor where they sprawled out comfortably. Nenniach wandered in, and Rumil leaned his sketchpad against the side of the couch, offering his lap to her. Celebdreth and Elodien followed, hesitantly finding spots on the floor as well. Even Mitzi seemed to know something was going on, and stepped around the elves until she came to Glorfindel and hopped up into his lap.

Celeborn looked around the crowded room. He looked once again to the door and then began, still watching the doorway. “Once upon-“

Elrond strolled into the room, trying to look casual. When Celeborn paused, Elrond blinked and looked over to him. “I did not mean to interrupt anything, I came only to start a fire in the hearth. Is...something going on in here I did not know about?” He made a swirling motion with his hand to include those present in his question.

“Elrond, you aren’t half as good as your sons when it comes to acting,” Celeborn informed him. Elrond frowned as the grown elves laughed.

“My Lord, there is a good spot available there, if you would care for it,” suggested Erestor, pointing to an open space on the floor between Celebdreth and Elrohir.

“Really, I came to light the-“

“Elrond?”

“Yes, Celeborn?”

“Sit.”

The master of the house took a few short steps to the place Erestor had pointed out and sat.

“Now, where was I?” Celeborn asked, but before he could receive an answer, Galadriel stepped into the room, followed by Celebrian.

“I knew the house was too quiet!” Celebrian looked around the room accusingly.

Galadriel shook her head, smiling as she lectured. “I do not believe this. I ask you all to help us find the elflings, and here you are, lounging.”

“But, Nana!” Orophin said, rather exasperated, “we DID find the elflings.”

“All of us did,” added Glorfindel.

“For the record,” spoke Haldir, “I was never asked to find the elflings, so I do not wish to be grouped with the ‘you all’ previously mentioned.”

“Nor was I!” added Rumil.

“Nor I,” said Erestor, turning his head a little to catch Galadriel’s gaze. “Though, again, for the record, I think I ‘found’ them first.”

Galadriel narrowed her eyes playfully at Celeborn. “What is your excuse? You know their bedtime.”

“I was tricked,” defended Celeborn. “Ambushed. There is only one of me and two of them.”

“I did not know the Lord of Lorien had weakened to a state where two small elflings could best him so easily,” Galadriel said as she approached to stand before him.

“Well, one of them IS your daughter.”

Galadriel nodded. “And she has you wrapped around her little finger,” she told him in Westron, causing the rest of the family to snicker while the elflings looked at one another with confusion.

“She must have learned that from you,” said Celeborn. He tilted his head up as Galadriel leaned closer to give her a kiss before turning back to Tallasinde. “Now that everyone is here, I think we can begin the story.”

“Oh, no,” Galadriel said, despite pouting from not only the elflings, but also many of the elves. “It is time for bed.”

“But Ada promised a story!” whined Tallasinde. “A loooooooonnnnnnnggggg story.”

“No stories. To bed, my child, and you, too, Vilya,” Galadriel said to the elfling that was now making an attempt to hide under Erestor’s sleeves. “Your Nana wants you to get to sleep.”

“I do not think so,” Vilya answered.

Galadriel raised her brows in a very authoritative fashion, which was magnified by her great height. “Oh, I do think so.”

Vilya shook her head and pointed. Galadriel turned to see Celebrian had squeezed between Elrond and Elrohir and was smiling sweetly up at her mother.

“Just one story should not hurt. We can let them sleep late tomorrow.”

Galadriel threw her hands in the air mocking frustration as she walked out of the room.

“Oh-oh.” Tallasinde tugged on a golden curl. “I think we made Nana upset.”

Celeborn smiled and kissed the elfling atop her head, distracting her enough to loosen her hand from her hair. “Not at all. She will return.”

“How do you know?” asked Tallasinde, but Celeborn merely nodded his head to the doorway. Less than a minute later, Galadriel re-entered with a large platter of cookies. She set the tray on a side table, taking two from the top of the stack, and handing one each to the elflings, who said their thanks to her. The sentiment was echoed as the tray was passed around the room.

Once everyone was settled again, Celeborn looked around at the elves – at his family – waiting eagerly for the tale. Cuddling his young daughter close, he cleared his throat and began, “Once upon a time...”


End file.
